2025-08-18 23:02:36
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As soon as Max and Frans sat back down in their seats, the table grew silent again. But the old man in the black suit, who had been belittling Max Corp from the start, immediately opened his mouth. His eyes were sharp, and his voice was full of mockery. "Where have you two been?" he asked loudly, making every head turn. "How dare you leave the dinner table during a gala dinner? That is disrespectful!" Frans tensed up, but Max remained calm. The old man lifted his chin high, speaking with a tone full of authority. "For this insolence, Max Corp deserves punishment. Do you think you can do as you please in Vesula? No. Everyone here must obey the rules!" He glanced at Max with a mocking smile, his eyes filled with disdain. "Now answer. Who holds the highest position in Max Corp?" The table fell silent again. Everyone waited curiously. Max lifted his head slightly, looking coldly at the old man, and replied flatly without the slightest hesitation. "Me. I am the owner of Max Corp."
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Max replied, “I only have the ability to heal people because my master taught me.” As he opened his eyes wider, the two bodyguards who had been panicking quickly moved closer, trying to support their master’s body. But the old man raised his hand slightly, stopping them. “No need… my body already feels much better,” he said in a hoarse voice. He tried to sit up by himself, and indeed, his body was flexible again, and his face no longer looked pale. Frans stared with his mouth open, still unable to believe what Max had just done. Meanwhile, the old man turned to Max with a look full of gratitude. “Young man… you saved my life. Thank you.” Max only gave a slight smile. “It is natural for us to help each other. You don’t need to thank me.” The old man took a long breath, as if calming his heartbeat that had been unstable. Then he looked deeper into Max’s eyes. “Where did you learn such a technique? Who is your master?” The question made Max fall silent for a moment. His eyes narr
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A waiter wearing a black suit with a satin tie looked panicked for a moment, but quickly composed himself and stood straight in front of the round table, his voice still polite and formal. “Does anyone here have a personal doctor tonight?” he asked, looking at the thirteen guests seated around him. “There is an emergency… a guest suddenly fell ill and needs immediate medical treatment." Some of the guests just exchanged glances, then slowly shook their heads. A man in a dark blue Zegna suit looked at the waiter with a faint smile and said, “Of course we did not bring a personal doctor to a business gala premiere. We came here to discuss business, not to treat someone who is sick.” A few other people at the table chuckled softly, clearly showing their indifference. They went back to their conversations, sipping wine, and occasionally laughing lightly, as if the waiter's problem did not exist. At that moment, Max leaned forward and looked at the waiter who seemed hesitant. “What h
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The table fell silent. Frans glanced at Max, then slowly raised his hand. “Me,” he said, trying to sound confident. “My name is Frans, Director of the newly established Vesula branch of Max Corp. I came with Mr. Max, the owner of Max Corp.” Several people at the table raised their eyebrows. Others gave faint, crooked smiles… not friendly smiles, but ones filled with cold judgment. A woman in a black velvet gown with a large pearl necklace looked them up and down, then whispered to the man beside her. The man, wearing a silk-lined Tom Ford suit, only chuckled quietly. “Max Corp…” the old man murmured while swirling his wine glass. “A name unfamiliar to my ears.” Frans tried to smile. “We are indeed newcomers to Vesula, but we are committed—” “Newcomers,” interrupted a young man in a dark blue Zegna suit. “No wonder… your suits look worn and cheap.” Frans tensed slightly, but Max remained calm, his gaze steady. A few other guests gave thin laughs. To them, the business world in
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Max only gave a quick glance, remaining calm. On the left side, a row of drink tables was attended by bartenders wearing white jackets and silk gloves. Old wine bottles from Château Margaux and Romanée-Conti were displayed on glass shelves, each worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Some guests sipped special edition Armand de Brignac champagne, its bottles coated in pure gold. The atmosphere inside was not just luxurious, it was truly exclusive. Guests spoke in a mix of languages. Some spoke Vesulan, Mororwian, even French and Italian. Their voices were low and calm, filled with confidence. The air was filled with the scent of niche perfumes made in limited quantities: Oud from Arabia, French extrait de parfum, and cinnamon from India. Frans even saw a woman walking past him wearing a haute couture gown sewn with platinum threads, paired with a rare blue diamond necklace that was probably worth more than everything inside his house. In the corner of the room stood a small st
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Frans was still standing near Max's desk after Sarah left. He toyed with an invitation envelope in his hand, then said in a casual tone, "Bro, it seems like all the guests tonight have partners." He glanced at Max with a teasing smile. Max raised an eyebrow, his gaze flat. "So?" Frans chuckled. "I mean, aren't you going with a partner? I can order a woman for you. Just pick, a model or a socialite, everything can be sorted out before the night." Max shook his head without hesitation. "No need. I'll just go with you." Frans shrugged. "Alright then..." *** Night fell. The Executive Gala was a monthly event regularly held by level 3 companies in Vesula. Its purpose was clearly to strengthen relationships, expand connections, and for some, to show off their wealth. The parking lot of the Vesu Hotel was packed with luxury cars. There were rows of glossy black Rolls-Royce Phantoms, a sapphire blue Bugatti Chiron, a futuristic McLaren Speedtail, and even an Aston Martin Valk
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